


Swim Until You Sink

by Korpuskat



Series: Do not stand at my grave and weep [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, ???? - Freeform, Animal death but its natural not abusive, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, anakin is a good bro, everyone is happy, suicide ideation, the fixit fic to my own fic, theyre force ghosts because i SAID SO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6299359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korpuskat/pseuds/Korpuskat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snoke takes over the Republic, Rey secures her spot as his new apprentice. Ren lies in a pool of blood somewhere, dead before the message makes it back to Hux. </p><p>Hux makes some arrangements before his impending arresting and execution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swim Until You Sink

**Author's Note:**

> I made pain, so now I have to ease that pain. It's just stupid unnecessary happiness with major character death. sorry. 
> 
> So if you want your angst to stay angsty, stay with part 1. If you want your children to find eternal love and own a dead cat, continue on.

Hux is in a meeting when it happens. It’s oddly pedestrian. He’s surrounded by things that should provide familiarity, stability- but it all feels foreign now. Phasma is giving a briefing, her accented, altered words lost on Hux’s ears as the world changes around him. He could feel it in the air, as though the entire universe had shifted its lenses, brought a new picture into view. Colder, lonelier. He knows what has happened- not the details, but he knows enough. He knows that, like always, Ren has gone and done something foolish- something dangerous.

 

 

Hux finds out two hours later when the word comes down from the top that he is to be taken under arrest. Hux returns to his quarters and for the first time in a very long time, is completely at a loss for what to do. In all his dreams, in all his planning, he had never quite come up for a contingency plan for this outcome. 

The moment passes. He begins to think logically: whether he sees a trial in First Order or Republic space makes no difference- he’ll be dead within a week either way. He could save everyone the trouble and do it himself, but he’s fairly sure he can’t, actually. Ren didn’t like him scraping his nails on his palm, he certainly wouldn’t like what he could do with that razor. Not that what Ren thinks matters: Ren’s _dead_. And soon, one way or another, Hux will be joining him. 

Hux thinks of Rens attempts at explaining the minutia of the Force- that he kept Vader’s mask, but hoped to speak to the man himself. That persons could be preserved as ghosts in the Force, that they could linger there forever. There’s something comforting in that, and Hux chooses not to dwell on it.

Hux makes up his mind then, tells himself that if he is to die, he will do so with his pride intact. In ancient worlds it was seen as honorable to kill oneself after losing a war- a leader would fall on his sword, leave his body among his men’s. But Hux can’t bring himself to do that- too long the instinct of survival has been branded into Hux’s very soul. 

So, he hopes that somewhere some of his officers will be loyal enough to him- even in surrender. He sits at his desk and writes one last memo. He asks Lieutenant Mitaka- a quiet man who was quick to obey orders- to care for Millicent. He hopes sympathy or the residual reaction to a request from his superior will secure Millicent’s future. He wishes she had returned to his quarters, he wishes he could pet her again. He doubts anyone on the ship would knowingly harm the cat in his absence, extended and permanent though it may be, but he would prefer to know someone is routinely feeding her.

When the letter is completed, he dresses in his uniform best, sits on his bed, and waits.

 

 

It takes longer than Hux thought for a knock to come at his door. He stands, regal. Allows the guards entry, allows the cuffs to click into place around his wrists. Hux allows himself to entertain the thought of what Ren would do if he were being arrested. The answer was, of course: he wouldn’t be arrested. He’d mind-trick or eviscerate anyone who dared to try. 

Hux is lead onto a shuttle and shipped off to his new home. 

 

All things considered it’s a decent cell. He hasn’t been tortured, has been fed a respectable meal. But they have not confiscated his uniform. He’s thankful, at least, even though that isn’t a good sign. He can’t imagine himself in prisoner’s garb, which is probably for the best. Ren had spoken of ghosts in the afterlife. If that’s true, he’s glad Ren won’t see him like that.

The greatcoat is warm on his shoulders, a familiar weight that grounds him a little. He sits on the bed and waits, waits for nothing in particular. There’s no one coming for him, no great rescue that will be attempted on his behalf. He could, of course, plan one. But there was no use, no benefit for him in that scenario.

So he lies down and thinks of a time before Kylo Ren. He knew, back then, and always, that he would be powerful. That he would lead a mighty army, would hold a great and awful legacy. His professors did not, of course. And they had reminded him at every turn that this life- not just on the battlefield- would be a struggle. That he’d have to fight to survive and fight to get what he wanted.

Hux wonders if he’d have developed the same relationship with Ren if they’d been introduced younger, as budding adults. Ren was always the more affectionate of the two; Hux can’t imagine how he’d been as a teenager, overwhelmed with the need to support and be supported. Hux thinks of the times he’d wake up to Ren’s fingers in his hair, brushing so lightly. Hux entertains the idea of having Ren’s lips on his forehead one last time- a goodbye kiss, as it were. Or perhaps a hello, if he was right. 

 

 

The sham of a trial takes no time at all- mostly it is Hux sitting at a table while the prosecutor asks him questions that could only bring his damnation. Did he order the destruction of the Hosnian system, the murder of billions? Yes, of course, they have the recording of his speech. He was proud of that one, honestly. 

He refuses to grovel, to beg. He tells himself it’s for the sake of his pride, but the truth is he’s not real sure what he would do if he were to condemned to live. Well, he knows exactly what he would do if he had the ability. A life sentence wouldn’t be very long at all. There’s nothing left for him in this world.

 

Had the tables been turned, had Hux captured General Organa, Hux would’ve advocated a public execution as well. Destroy their hope, embolden our morale. He doesn’t hold it against them. 

The rope, however, makes him want to laugh. He’d die with a hard-on, he suspects. He’d seen Ren choke his lessers with his mind and he’d felt Ren’s hand around his throat so many times, felt the buzzing in his head as his body shook. He’d gotten off on it, if he were candid. To place that much trust in Ren, to believe that for all his foolish, destructive and self-destructive urges he could hold onto that control just long enough to not kill him.

And here he was, killing him. Because that’s what this was. Hux wouldn’t, couldn’t go on alone. Ren’s death was a murder twofold. 

Hux stares out into the audience, dares them to meet his eyes. A man in dark robes reads a passage of book Hux doesn’t recognize. They had no clue what religion the First Order subscribed to. Hux smiles, despite himself. Sorry I made you wait for me.

He thinks of what the afterlife could be like. Was it nothingness at all? If so, at least it would be better than this. Perhaps in the best case he’d find Ren waiting for him, maybe apologizing for once again getting himself into trouble. For doing something stupid and going where Hux cannot follow. 

The floor drops from beneath him- his body weightless for a fraction of a second, his coat lifting around him. He imagines he’s dropping into another plane, imagines his soul- if he even has one- has been pulled from his body with the savage _snap_ of the rope, of his neck. For a moment he’s aware he’s dead weight- and he closes his eyes, still smiling.

 

 

Hux sleeps for a long time, aware of nothing but darkness- of the void that permeates the world, a thick miasma he cannot swim through. He’s a pebble that’s been tossed into an ocean; unimportant, lost among the dark waves and water- microscopic in the big picture. It’s like the thick smoke of an oil fire, roils of blackness that obey their own laws, untempered by human interference. Hux thinks of Ren in that manner, wonders what Ren’s up to now.

 

 

 

Hux wakes to the sound of crying. It’s an odd feeling, waking up when you’re dead. He hadn’t expected that- the immediate knowledge that, yes. He’s dead. His corpse is being given the minimal excuse of respectable treatment- jettisoned into the remains of the Hosnian system. If he was attached to his body he’d be offended- his afterlife spoiled by sitting in the graves of billions. 

But he’s not. 

He’s standing in someone’s quarters. On the _Finalizer_. He could… step away. He could see all around him: the Destroyer was orbiting a Resistance-claimed world, taken in for decommissioning. Personnel questioned, ship stripped for parts. Too bad, he was rather fond of his ship. The person crying is not the owner of the room, because he can’t really own anything anymore. He’s just as dead as Hux.

But the cat he’s playing with- Hux doesn’t think about that too hard, that his cat sees dead people- is joyful, meowing and rolling about on the floor, dirtying the gray with ginger hairs. Ren is petting her, kind of. She’s reacting as though she’s being pet, all the while ignoring the way Ren is sobbing. On the floor. Like a child. 

Hux would berate him, would taunt him with this. But he’s barely keeping himself together enough to take a step forward. Ren’s sobbing stops, he turns slowly- seeing the perfectly shined boots and prim, pressed slacks. The heavy wool of his edge of his greatcoat. Ren’s eyes slide up Hux’s body comically slow, waiting for the cruel joke to come to play. 

For an existence that has no blood or any other bodily fluid (as, that requires having a body), Ren’s eyes are red and puffy, tear marks streaking down his face. Millicent purrs loudly, winding around Hux’s legs. It was instantaneous: Ren on his feet, hands grabbing at Hux’s face, holding him there as Ren’s mouth finds Hux’s, heavy and needy and desperate- the goodbye kiss they’d never shared. 

Ren is sobbing- or laughing, Hux can’t tell- into his mouth, shaking as Hux catches two handfuls of that ratty cowl, yanking Ren down to keep their lips together. Hux’s mouth is working faster than his mind- spewing lines of _You just had to go and do something so stupid, didn’t you. Just had to fuck this all up._ But there’s no malice. The temporary prospect of never having see Ren had erased any hostility Hux had thought up.

 

They, for lack of a better phrase, live like that for a while. They follow where Mitaka takes Millicent, where he goes back to his home planet- to help ease tensions in the merging galactic governments. They play with Millicent and sometimes meet various other ghosts that walk the world- unknown entities that tell them snippets of the history of the galaxy, of the Force, of the Jedi. It’s not a bad afterlife.

Mitaka knows that sometimes Millie will stare into the air, seeing things Mitaka can’t. There are many old superstitions about cats. He can’t help but wonder- and know- who’s watching over her. 

 

 

 

Weeks- or, months? It’s hard to tell time when you have no physical body- later Kylo Ren introduces Hux to his grandparents. Time, and death as it turns out, heals all wounds. For any misgivings about one’s actions in life, the residual anger is washed away. There’s no point in holding onto it- no matter where you stood on that in your lifetime. So the four of them watch Rey take over where Kylo had left off- Snoke’s right hand woman, formidable and so very sure she was doing the best for the galaxy.

“We all think that, sooner or later.” Anakin tells Kylo, then, lighter: “You should’ve seen Obi-Wan’s face when she killed you. He gave me hell that _my_ grandson went darkside, and there she is.” 

Kylo isn’t sure how to feel about the fact that, in short, nothing in life mattered anyway.

Padme is the one who explains how Hux was there anyway. How she wound up there. “The Force is a part of every living thing, but most people’s connection with it is too weak to be individual after they die. If you spend enough time around Force-sensitives in your lifetime, if you have a strong enough attachment to one, you may end up here, with them.”

Kylo doesn’t ask about or look for his father in the vastness of the Force. He’s not ready to face that problem yet.

 

 

When he is ready, he finds Han with Luke. Two men he’s disappointed, and yet. His father welcomes him with an open hug, says nothing when Kylo cries into the leather of his jacket. Relief or grief, Kylo isn’t entirely sure. Luke doesn’t hug him, but doesn’t shun him either. And considering there are several children’s ghosts here that are from his own hand, Kylo thinks that’s more welcome than he deserves.

 

Millicent dies at the ripe old age of 20 standard years, approximately. Mitaka cares for her the entire time, even as her joints begin to ache and she sleeps more and more. She used sleep in the middle of the couch, flanked by two invisible men who would sit pleasantly, stroke her back, and talk. But the cold began to permeate the purely metaphysical warmth of her real owners, and she retreated to sleeping on the bed behind Mitaka’s legs. Hux doesn’t begrudge her this. Kylo tries, tries very hard, to ease some of her pain in the Force. 

She doesn’t wake up one morning- a little kitty heart attack, the vet tells Mitaka. He isn’t sure what to do with her body. The easiest thing to do would be to bury her behind his home, in the little yard his rank has allowed him. He cared for her for nearly fifteen years; he could persuade himself he deserves to keep her, even in death. But he decides against it. She’s jettisoned to float forever with Hux’s body in the Hosnian asteroid field.

Kylo is, admittedly, a little jealous. His body was given no such treatment, just cleaned away and left somewhere to rot. But it’s superficial. An orange cat finds its way through the endless void, always following her owners wherever they go. It’s easy, really, since they go everywhere together.

**Author's Note:**

> “Let them think what they liked, but I didn't mean to drown myself. I meant to swim till I sank -- but that's not the same thing.”  
> ― Joseph Conrad
> 
>  
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> 
> [ My Tumblr.](http://korpuskat.co.vu/)


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